Things that are Lost and Found
by Miyree
Summary: Cas has gone and reappears minus memory, minus Grace. Dean reminds himself repeatedly that he is straight. As straight as Bert and Ernie, that is.


**A/N: **This is actually a Christmas present for Leanna, but it's now two months late... Do I get a prize for that? Surely I must get a prize. No? Okay then. Leanna, I'm amazingly super sorry and please don't stop loving me because I would cry. Obviously.

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><p>Stage 1 – Absence<p>

It starts as a puzzle. It grows into a concern. Eventually it becomes a worry, constantly niggling at the Winchesters. A worry, deep in the pits of their stomach, reaching through and wrapping itself around their bones.

Cas hasn't been home in a while.

They suppose it's silly to think he would come back. It wasn't technically his 'home' – that would be heaven.

But it was his home. They all knew that. And he hadn't been back in weeks.

It was an all-too familiar and ominous situation.

They wrap themselves up in reassuring excuses and continue their daily lives. Hoping.

Stage 2 – Summons

A month passes. Then two. Sam's worry lines become a permanent feature, moulded into his forehead. Dean tries to scour the news discreetly for anything about a man with eyes too blue to be true and a rumpled trench coat. Sam wonders why he bothers, he's had that front covered for a long time. He supposes it helps Dean feel like he's doing something.

It's Dean that brings it up first. It's awkward, with much clearing of the throat and shuffling of feet as he stands in the doorway of Sam's motel bedroom. He stares at the floor as he mumbles something about Cas not having checked in for a while and 'sokay. Sam just nods mutely, waiting for Dean to make the summons. He's tempted to look away as Dean looks decidedly more awkward about the whole affair than when it's someone else's idea.

Cas doesn't come. Dean tries everything – the traditional prayer, the angry _"Cas, you son of a bitch, get down here!" _Even the magic word 'ass' doesn't coax the MIA angel into materialising. Swearing heavily, Dean kicks the dresser, rather petulantly Sam thinks, before leaving the room. Sam can hear him emptying the contents of the mini-bar in the beginnings of a night spent pissed. He sighs, rubbing his throbbing temples. He doesn't know what to do.

Stage 3 – Found

They stumble across Cas not a week later. Literally stumble. He's just sitting slumped in an alley, clutching a bottle of cheap wine. Packets of something lie littered around him, mostly empty. Dean has a sinking feeling of déjà vu, remembering the future that Zachariah showed him. So he does what Dean Winchester does. He grabs Cas by the lapels of the filthy trench coat he's still wearing and slams him against the side of one of the buildings hedging the alley. The impact is loud. Dean thinks he hears something crack. He thinks he must have heard wrong – angels don't break that easily. He knows something is wrong when Cas moans slightly and looks up, bleary-eyed, at Dean.

There is no recognition in those eyes.

Stage 4 – Gone

Sam wonders if it would've been better for Cas to still be missing. In a way, Cas still is missing and that's what makes this whole affair about a million times messier. Cas isn't Cas, he doesn't remember Sam, Bobby or the Apocalypse. He doesn't even remember Dean, who refuses to face him, talk to him. Dean knows that he's being irrational and unfair, but it makes him feel better so he'll be damned to stop.

Cas doesn't know who he is. After much persuasion that he was not being kidnapped and was not going to be killed, he cracked. He doesn't remember anything. He woke up in a downtown alley a few weeks ago and just stayed there. No one knew who he was, and he felt no desire to find out for himself. That much of Cas hasn't changed. He still doesn't understand human emotions, and the weight that humans give memories, feelings, life.

He doesn't even know he's an angel.

Stage 5 – Missing

It quickly becomes apparent that Cas isn't an angel. Not anymore. He sleeps, he eats. He hurts, he bleeds. And he doesn't put himself back together again.

An unwilling call to a certain King of Hell goes swimmingly. Crowley takes one look at the shell of an angel and bursts into raucous laughter, tears squeezing themselves out of his tear ducts and rolling down his face as he clings to the motel's kitchenette in an attempt to keep himself upright. Not that it works. He still slides to the floor ungracefully and continues to snigger uncontrollably.

Threats are given and snubbed, but Crowley is all too keen to reveal the punchline.

Cas has lost his Grace.

The revelation hits Dean harder than he thinks it should; his heartbeat speeds up and he wants to deny Crowley's words with every fibre in his body.

But his head knows it's the truth.

Stage 6 – Research

To some extent the brothers have renewed hope. Anna regained her memories after losing her Grace, so surely Cas could do the same? The problem is finding the right trigger. This calls for research, Sam's forte. He looks up different ways of curing amnesia, the Internet's large collection of medical resources suddenly becoming their Bible.

Dean takes the more straight-forward route. Shoving every goddamn Enochian symbol, demon and souvenir from Cas' former days in his face in an attempt to knock over that first domino, and let all of the lost memories slot into place. They take Cas hunting with them, hoping that it will help. Dean even gets over himself and buys the Supernatural books, forcing Cas to read them cover to cover every night.

It doesn't work.

Stage 7 – Migraine

It takes a few months, but eventually, the trigger is pulled. It's not even intentional. The boys are poring over a map, trying to connect a series of ghost attacks, and Cas is just watching TV with a standard blank look on his face. No memories, no emotions. Reverted to the original factory settings.

The show is Dr Sexy, something Cas has taken a penchant to. It makes Dean's chest get tight in something he attributes to the old Cas shining through the cracks. One of the female surgeons has Dr Sexy pinned against the wall, which is an unusual reversal of roles, but it's not the show. It's not the characters. It's not even their actions. It's the words that transform Cas into a whimpering mess clutching his head in the foetal position.

_"That's twice this week I've blown off my patients. Those are people in need of my help. I've been obsessed and I'm going to lose my job. And I did it, all of it, for you."_

Stage 8 – Hidden

The Cas that wakes up is both their Cas and someone entirely different. He has all his memories, looks at the brothers with that same responsible, endearing gaze, but seems wearier. Sam wouldn't have thought that it would be possible, but apparently it is. His shoulders sag more than before, as if the weight on them doubled overnight. Dean and Sam try to question him on how he lost his Grace, on the events leading to their current predicament, but the man in front of them just stares back at them in silence. Dean fancies he sees a flicker of something across Cas' face, but it's gone and doesn't come back. Privately Dean doesn't want to press the issue, he's just glad Cas has got his memories back. He doesn't want Cas to remember whatever contorted his features like that.

Dean's afraid it'll break him.

Stage 9 – Veracity

Sam is very good at getting his way. He bitches and whines until he's listened to. He talks about girly stuff like _feelings_ and being honest with yourself. The kind of things that make Dean feel compelled to leave ASAP and do something manly, like work on his baby, read porn or play Metallica loud enough to burst the eardrums of everyone unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity.

It takes Sam all of two weeks to crack Cas. The fallen angel just sits on the bed, twisting his hands in a very human display of anguish, eyes fixed downwards. He tries multiple times to start, but stops himself, as if he's not sure how to continue, how to break this bombshell Dean can feel looming ominously over their heads. Sam puts a hand on Cas's shoulder and murmurs some nonsense that Dean supposes is supposed to be comforting. Eventually Cas stands up jerkily and makes a swift exit through the door, leaving the stunned brothers with their eyebrows somewhere around their hairline. He returns not half an hour later, and it becomes painfully obvious why he left. Cas is pissed. Completely pissed and it pains Dean to know that the only way he can break the news to them is by getting himself so drunk that he doesn't care about, or know, what he's saying.

Cas slurs, and his words just come out as a mix of verbs, nouns and articles with no semblance of structure. He swears for a good while and then looks directly at Dean with a heartbroken look in those blue eyes.

"He told me to rip out my Grace. He told me I had to. God did."

Dean just stares.

Stage 10 – Ire

Cas passes out, Sam takes care of him. Dean's hands are tightly fisted, blunt nails digging into his palms. He gets up slowly, not really trusting himself. Sam catches his eye and nods, silently giving permission. Dean crosses the distance to the door in three strides. The door reverberates in its frame as he slams it on his way out.

Dean really wants to hurt something, or somebody. He's not entirely sure why he's so angry, maybe it's the ridiculous and nonsensical situation thing or the Cas obeying orders like a good little soldier thing or the parallels he sees between his relationship with his father and Cas' relationship with God. It doesn't matter. He just wants to break something. He wants to get in a fight and not think about anything.

He wants to not care.

Stage 11 – Acceptance

They don't talk about it. Nobody wants to. They just plunge themselves into hunting and avoid all dangerous topics. Killing things is priority #1.

There's no need for things like words.

They wouldn't help, anyway.

Cas has become quite proficient in fighting – both with arms and without. It was a struggle at first without his superhuman strength, but he's now able to at least keep up with Sam and Dean. He had to learn how to use his body all over again and Dean pretends not to notice Cas' frustration with being human; how sometimes he glares down at his body, hating it for not listening to him.

It's a twisted and sick turn of events in their life that reads like a tragedy. But they deal with it, just like they deal with all the shit that life throws at them. That's all they can do.

Stage 12 – Falling

Dean isn't sure when, or _why_, it starts. He blames it on one too many nights spent drunk without the company of any girls. A sloppy kiss, a clumsy fumble, sometimes more. It all becomes incredibly awkward in the morning, especially the first time Sam walks in on them unsuspectingly. Dean and Cas don't meet each other's eyes and Sam develops a new habit of getting two motel rooms on opposite sides of the building. He also tries to discreetly hand Dean a packet of condoms which earns him a week's worth of his least favourite music from Dean's tape collection.

It becomes something of a habit. It helps the two of them take their mind off of the world and hell; Dean has never been one to say no to sex. It's not exactly unpleasant or bad either – Cas is a fast learner. Dean doesn't care much for it – it's something they do, their bodies just interacting with one another without the need for thought. Thinking just over-complicates things and Dean doesn't want things to become complicated.

Just sex is good.

Stage 13 – Break

Dean should've known it wouldn't last, this fragile peace. Nothing halfway decent ever does in his life. Cas confronts him, finally. Wants to know what the hell they're doing, if they're in a _relationship_. It's a ridiculous notion, and Dean tells Cas that straight. But he just stares at Dean hard, before asking why. The question catches Dean off guard, so he replies with the first thing that comes into his head. He's Dean Winchester, he's not interested in relationships and he doesn't even care that much about Castiel. It was the wrong thing to say, or maybe the right thing. Dean doesn't know what he wanted, but Cas turns on his heel and walks out the door.

When he comes back, it's with blood on his hands.

Stage 14 – Ice

"It's not mine," are the first words out of his mouth, before Sam and Dean have a chance to say anything. "I took care of some business." Dean swallows hard.

"You gonna elaborate on that or what?" Cas' head turns towards him smoothly, blue eyes fixating on his green ones coolly.

"Or what, Dean?" He asks, voice dangerously calm. Dean feels a slight flutter of panic in his stomach, but he suppresses it as Cas continues. "I went to – ah – _inquire,_ regarding the possible whereabouts of my Grace. I intend to regain it." His cold tone and detached demeanour does not go unmissed by Dean. He shifts his stance uncomfortably, knowing that this is somehow his fault, but he doesn't want to admit it to himself. Sam glances at Dean curiously before turning his attention back to Cas.

"We already looked for your Grace, Cas. I checked all the weather reports – we investigated the shooting stars that appeared in the period you were away. We were thorough, it took a long time. I'm pretty sure we didn't miss anything." Cas turns on him, eyes boring into the younger Winchester's.

"My Grace can't just disappear, Sam. It had to go somewhere; we just weren't looking in the right places. That's why I had to have my own investigation." Sam's lips press tightly together and he sighs in irritation.

"You couldn't have, I dunno, _told_ us? We could have helped you. Not to mention that you're meant to be our friend."

"I may not be an angel of the Lord at present, but I still know more about the mechanisms of angels than you do, Sam. Telling you my plans was not necessary." Cas stares at Sam, as if challenging him to criticise him further. Sam backs down, the hard glint in Cas' eyes too much for him. He nods mutely, before sitting down on his bed and staring at the floor. Cas rolls his eyes and addresses the pair of them.

"It appears that my Grace is in the possession of none other than Crowley. I will require your assistance in getting it back." The colour drains out of Sam's face.

"But that means-"

"Yes. You will be going to Hell."

Stage 15 – Mission Impossible

"Are you freaking crazy?" Dean spits out. "That's suicide!"

"No, Dean, I would not say that I am crazy. I have a plan." Cas looks deadly serious. Dean scoffs.

"Yeah, because our plans always work. The universe hates us, Cas, it's about time you learned that."

"Nothing for nothing, but I'm with Dean on this one. We've both been to hell before, and to be honest, going back was never on my list of things to do." Sam interjects, still slightly pale from the initial shock of Cas' declaration. Cas stares at the brothers, poker-faced, and Dean is too occupied with the idea of returning to Hell, the one place he didn't want to go back to, to feel worried about Cas' new disregard for feelings.

"Won't you even hear me out?" Cas asks, eyes all baby-blue and innocent.

"No," Dean says firmly, "I'm not letting you put Sammy and me in danger for this stupid plan of yours."

"Dean," Cas' voice had taken on a steely edge, "I have died for you, and more than once. I have always followed your plans, even when they had no chance of success. I have been in danger on your whim so many times. My plan will work. I will regain my Grace." Dean rolls his eyes, not convinced. "Besides, you and Sam are far too important to the universe to be left dead. I am sure that another angel or Crowley himself would raise you, in the event that you die and I am unable to bring you back." Dean scoffs.

"Yeah, sure, because the angels and the King of Hell really love us that much."

"It is not that they love you, in fact they harbour a range of emotions from strong hatred to mild disdain for you, Dean." Castiel says bluntly. Sam snorts, but quickly shuts up when Dean glares at him. "They would simply bring the two of you back because you are easily manipulated by your feelings towards each other. Coupled with your gratuitous knowledge of the supernatural, you would make a formidable weapon for either side."

"There's no way I'd let anyone use me as a weapon." Dean denies stubbornly.

"Did you, or did you not make a deal with a crossroads demon forsaking your own life to bring back Sam? Were you going to say yes to Michael? You are easily manipulated, Dean. You are human, after all." Dean feels a need to point out that, at the moment, Cas is also human, but he doesn't think Cas will listen. His behaviour, Dean muses, is remarkably like that of when they first met. He is brutally cold and clinical. The man currently standing in the dank motel room was not the same one that stormed out the door several hours earlier.

Dean hates to think that it was his fault.

It wasn't his fault. He told Cas the truth, it was his fault for taking it like a child and responding with a petulant tantrum. Dean thinks that he really should have learned by now. It's a bad idea to piss off the nerd angels.

"Fine," he hears his mouth say, "we'll do it. But if we die again I swear to God I'm gonna come back and kick your ass." Sam nods from the bed.

"Naturally." Cas replies.

Stage 16 - Infiltration

Surprisingly, Cas' plan works. Dean guesses that living for several millennia must give one a lot of time to become a genius strategist. The angel thing might help too, but Dean's not so sure that being an angel gives you a naturally high IQ, going by some of the dickheads he's met. They manage to sneak right past all the security (demons galore) and throw themselves, albeit after a lot of swearing and whining into the pit.

The Hell they work their way through is not the one that Dean remembers. It's organised, there are queues. Organised torture, he supposes, is more efficient. Not to mention standing in the damn queue probably does a number on your nerves, knowing that with every step forwards you're closer to a whole new world of pain, but having to move all the same.

Cas seems to know his way around, which pisses Dean off. In retrospect, it makes sense that he'd have visited a few times - he pulled Dean out of there for God's sake - but it still irritates him.

Speaking of Cas, he'd not snapped out of his little temper tantrum. He avoids speaking to Dean, and when he does, it's with a condescending tone and liberal amount of sarcasm. Dean knows that the smart choice would be to sit down and resolve their differences, but that would involve talking, and feelings. And talking about their feelings. There are a million online articles giving advice about heartache and relationship problems, but none for two guys, and definitely none for a relationship including a former angel and a guy who hunts things that aren't meant to exist. That's not even taking into account that both aforementioned men have a history in family problems.

It's just easier to let it be.

Dean hopes it won't cost them their lives.

Eventually they make their way into what Dean supposes is the very heart of hell. To the right is a smart arrow labelled 'The Cage', which Dean finds rather unnerving. There are other such arrows around, pointing to 'The Racks', 'The Waiting Room', 'Mental Exercises' and other rooms Dean really doesn't want to go anywhere near. They turn a corner and Dean spots another arrow, this one marked 'Crowley's Office'. It points straight ahead, to a room with a chestnut door bearing a plaque that reads 'The King of Hell'. Underneath it is a small framed card with the words 'In' and 'Out' written on it. Small LED lights illuminate 'Out'. Dean resists an urge to roll his eyes and bang his head against the wall. What kind of fool makes finding the head honcho's office so easy, and then has the stupidity to tell the whole world that the room's empty and free for the looting.

One that doesn't expect to be visited by trouble.

Or perhaps one that is well prepared and welcomes it.

Sam turns the door handle gingerly, half-expecting it to be booby-trapped. No alarms start ringing or guards come running, so he pushes the door open wide. Two jaws hit the floor and Cas', unsurprisingly, is not one of them.

The room is lavish beyond belief, and yet remarkably classy. Everything from the antique high-backed chair with moss-green padding to the oak cabinet filled with bottles of Craig scotch and crystal goblets aligned in neat rows was Crowley to a T. The trio make their way into the room and get to business, rifling through drawers and cupboards, looking for Cas' Grace. Cas had told them that it could be in any small bottle or jar, and as far as looks went, it would be a swirling mass of light, just as Anna's had been. The room was big. There was work to be done.

Stage 17 - Crash

Ten minutes later and they had nothing to show for their efforts. They'd torn through every possible hiding place they could possibly think of - granted at high speed, Crowley could appear at any given moment - but there was no sign of Cas' Grace. Sam is the first to give up. He stands and sighs.

"Guys, we've looked everywhere and nothing. Zilch. Nada." Cas' brows furrow in confusion and he shakes his head.

"No, that's not possible, the information I received was very reliable."

"Well, we've searched everywhere; it's not here."

"But Crowley has my Grace, Sam. I know it."

"Well maybe you don't, and this source isn't as reliable as you seem to think he is." Dean hurriedly stands up, ready to break up the squabbling duo, when a loud, slow clapping is heard. The cliche of it all sends shivers up Dean's spine and he turns, filled with a sense of foreboding. Sure enough, lounging in a chair and looking thoroughly amused, is Crowley. A conceited smirk is painted on his face and not for the first time Dean has an intense longing to wipe it off. Or rather, smash it off with his fist.

"Gentlemen," Crowley begins, "this has been most entertaining. But please don't split hairs over this. It's really a trivial matter and, technically, you're both right. Isn't that great?" His smile broadens. The coil of anger in Dean's stomach tightens.

"Crowley, explain." He spits out, glaring daggers at the King of Hell. If looks could kill then Crowley would be thrice dead, given that Sam and Cas were sending similar looks his way.

"With pleasure, my dear, but all in good time. This kind of thing needs to be enjoyed slowly, like a drink." He settles down further into his chair and sighs in content. Dean's last nerve went a long time ago.

"Crowley, tell us what the hell is going on, or I'll-"

"Or you'll what, Dean?" Crowley asks, looking directly at him, all trace of amusement wiped from his features. Dean briefly spares a thought for how it's the second time his threats have been questioned in the week. "You're in my world, now. If anyone's to be making ultimatums, it's me." He smiles once more. "But as I'm so nice, I'm going to overlook that little outburst and continue anyway. Now, you're looking for Cas' Grace."

"No, we're not." Sam responds instantly. Dean feels a burst of pride towards his brother. Crowley does not look impressed.

"Even if I hadn't been here since you arrived - which I have been - and overheard your entire conversation, the reason for your visit isn't exactly a secret, so lying isn't going to get you anywhere, Sam dear."

"Wait a minute," Dean interrupts, "we checked this room when we came in, it was empty. And the sign on the door said you were out!" Crowley tuts and shakes his head condescendingly.

"Dean, oh Dean. I'm the King of Hell. If I want to be invisible, you're not going to see me. Cas might have been able to, but he's not all powered-up, so that was out of the question. And just because a piece of card on a door says that someone is out, doesn't mean that they are. Silly mistake to make, Dean." Crowley stands up and walks over to his cabinet of Craig, before pouring himself a glass and settling back down in his chair. He takes a sip and ponders his words before continuing. "It doesn't matter anyway. As I said, you're looking for his Grace and you learned, rightly so, that I happen to be in possession of it. So you see, Cas, you were right! And here's how Sam is also right. Your Grace isn't in any of the drawers or hiding-places here - thank you, by the way, for completely ruining the order of my office. That was most inconsiderate of you. Your Grace is something that's very valuable, so why would I leave it lying around?" He pulls open one side of his jacket, revealing a glow pulsating from one of the inner pockets. "I'm sure you've worked it out. You're clever lads." Both Dean and Sam start towards Crowley, who flings them back against the wall with a cursory flick of his wrist. "But here's the kicker, the one you should look out for." He closes his jacket pocket again and leans forwards conspiratorially, a cheshire grin spreading across his features. "God gave me your Grace, Cas. I didn't steal or search for it. He gave it to me. Didn't even have to pay a penny." Crowley leans backwards, smiling broadly. Dean's looking at Cas before he can think about it. He's standing, frozen. His eyes are wide open in shock and the sickening feeling of betrayal is written all over his face. Dean feels a stab of pity for him; he's told to rip out the thing that makes him tick by his father, who then gives it, free of charge to his enemy. This new revelation is eating Cas from the inside out; his knees buckle and he falls into a crumpled sitting position on the floor. His shoulders are slumped and he just sits there, completely silent and completely broken.

Stage 18 – Burn

Crowley laughs in delight at Cas before snapping his fingers. The room was instantly filled with black smoke, demons materialising out of the fog. Dean lunges for Cas and tries to drag him upright, but to no avail. Cas sinks back down to the floor, taking Dean with him. His head points downwards, hair shadowing his face so that Dean can no longer see his expression. He's not sure he wants to. It would break his heart. Dean tightens his grip on Cas' bicep, leaning down so that he can talk into his ear.

"C'mon, Cas. We can do this later, but we gotta get out of here now. Demons all around the clock, understand?" Apparently Cas does because he lifts his head and gazes around them hopelessly, but he doesn't make any attempt to get away. "Cas, c'mon!" Dean urges. He desperately motions to Sam to come and grab Cas' other arm. The demons seem to be content with just watching the show for now, but Dean is sure that they would not stand by and watch the trio leave. Sure enough, as Sam helps heave Cas to his feet, the demons start closing in. Crowley shifts slightly in his seat before regarding the scene serenely.

"Game on."

Stage 19 - Timing

The demons spring into action almost too fast for Dean to react to. He curses, drops Cas and straightens up just in time to get punched in the jaw and be sent flying backwards. Sam has also let go of Cas and is faring only slightly better than Dean in that he managed to avoid the first blow that came his way. The second? Not so much. The brothers both straighten up, heads reeling, within seconds of impact; bodies trained since they were children reacting to the situation faster than their minds can. They throw punches and kicks, bodies are slammed against one another, but to no avail. They're beaten into a bloody mess and thrown into the middle of the room, on top of Cas.

Sam is unconscious. So is Cas, not that he put up much of a fight. Dean feels like crap and that's an understatement. All that goes through Dean's head is pain, pain, pain. He closes his eyes and grits his teeth, concentrating on suppressing the feeling of his body burning and falling apart. It was one of the first things his dad had taught him. In a fight, it doesn't matter how much pain you're in, if you're going to survive you have to swallow the pain and continue fighting.

Except Dean's not sure he can continue; his body isn't exactly listening to him.

Crowley finally makes his move, standing up and walking over to them ready to gloat. He looms over them with a gleeful grin on his face and kneels down in front of Dean.

"Oh, what a surprise. Looks like I win. Any last words?"

"You going to kill us?" Dean spits. It's not all he spits - quite a bit of blood comes out too. All over Crowley's blazer. The demon's face immediately contorts into disgust and he pulls out a handkerchief to mop it up. Dean watches. Dean sees.

Both of Crowley's hands are busy with mopping up Dean's spittle, Crowley himself is completely concentrated on the fate of his suit. The surrounding demons are off their guard - left at ease by the King of Hell. So Dean moves.

Using what energy and focus he's been gathering since he was unceremoniously thrown on the floor, Dean lunges with his hands and reaches for Crowley's jacket. His fingers slip inside the inner pocket and take a hold of a small vial. Ears ringing, Dean pulls it out. Crowley has already realised what's going on and goes to stop Dean.

Dean crushes the vial between his fingers and all hell breaks loose.

Literally.

Stage 20 – Spark

It's rather unnerving, actually. The whole world seems to freeze and watch as the light blossoms and spreads out through the room. Every demon it touches vanishes with a pained wail. Even Crowley seems to be affected - his skin blisters like he's on fire and, swearing, he vanishes, presumably to some new hideaway. The room is soon filled with the light and void of demons. Cas' Grace draws back in on itself, streamlining like an arrow and suddenly plunges down Cas' throat. Cas shudders and draws in a deep breath, eyes flying open. He gasps for several moments, eyes flickering all around him until they settle on Dean. They aren't the cold eyes of the past week, they're incredulous, bemused and completely Cas. Dean starts laughing hysterically and, without really thinking about it, grabs Cas' face and smashes their lips together.

It's a rough kiss, but filled with hope and relief; they're both smiling into it (although Dean suspects that Cas has no idea of what is going on). They break apart and Dean looks away, embarrassed. He glances back discreetly and Cas is just smiling back at him. Oblivious, betrayed and rejected, yet he smiles at Dean as if the world is right and not fucked up. As if he's just happy to be alive. Which, you know, he could be.

Dean decides in that moment to fuck being straight, fuck being scared of commitment, fuck everything, because he is fucking gay for a fucking angel and he's gonna go to Hell for it. So he kisses Cas again. Who this time slowly freezes and breaks away from Dean. Dean's breath catches and he feels terror grip his heart as Cas stares at him in horror.

"Dean, it is improper to engage in displays of affection in front of your brother." He can't help but laugh and pull Cas towards him again.

"Guy's out cold. He'll have no idea." He murmurs against Cas' lips and smiles as the angel kisses him back passionately.

Stage 21 – Catharsis

It takes Cas the blink of an eye to transport the three of them to their current motel where upon arrival he promptly faints, leaving Dean feeling bewildered and quite out of his depth; something he is not used to. After some deliberation he heaves Sam and Cas up onto two of the beds and sits down on a chair to wait.

Sam is the first to come to, accompanied with the expected swearing and moans of pain. Dean makes sure that Cas is comfortable and showing no signs of stirring before wrapping up his baby brother's wounds. His own injuries, having been left untreated as of yet, are an immediate concern of Sam's, who makes sure that Dean is taken care of at least as well as he takes care for others. He then glances furtively at Dean and Cas before announcing that he needs fresh air and makes his not-so-subtle escape. Dean can't help but feel grateful, but keeps up a surly exterior, one that he's sure Sam can see straight through anyway.

A low moan is followed by the fluttering of eyelashes as Cas awakes, squinting as his eyes are assaulted by the light. Dean's breath catches in his chest, and he doesn't even try to suppress the relieved laugh that bubbles out of him. He pulls Cas up into a strong hug, ignoring the slight groan that comes out of the angel's mouth. Cas returns the hug, albeit slightly weakly, before pulling away, a serious look in his eyes.

"Dean." His tone matches his sombre expression. "Dean, I have to tell you something." Dean feels a slight pang of worry in his stomach but forces himself to smile anyway.

"Well then, shoot. Nothing's stopping you." Cas takes a deep breath.

"When I was asleep I heard him. I heard God." Dean's jaw tightens and every muscle in his body locks down, a foreboding feeling now gripping his heart completely. "He said that he had to give Crowley my Grace because he saw that we would come after it and that it would go rampant in Hell. He said that Crowley had been getting too cocky; Hell had been causing too much trouble, and that my Grace, inflicting the damage it did, served as a warning to subdue Hell. He said that it was necessary."

"Well fuck him." Dean says forcefully. "He had your trust and he fucked you over without explaining a thing. Not to mention the fact that he chooses not to intervene or help in the whole Apocalypse, but now that Hell gets a little bit rowdy he decides it's time to step up?" Cas' eyes are downcast and Dean stops, realising that he has said too much. "But that doesn't matter," Dean's voice is gentler now, his words chosen carefully, "because you've got us. You've got Sam. You've got me. That's not going to change. We won't leave you." Cas' blue eyes are staring deep into Dean's, making him feel a bit uncomfortable, but he maintains the contact.

Dean has a sudden thought and his lips twist into a lewd smile. "You know what else the two of us have? A motel room, with Sam not due to return any time soon." Cas' eyes widen in understanding and his lips part slightly in a silent 'oh'. Grinning, Dean leans in to close the gap between them.


End file.
